On Your Knees, Wildling
by Jemster
Summary: Sometimes after a fight that energy has to go somewhere.


They had been sparring for nearly two hours, neither giving into the other. Fists had connected with jaws, elbows with sides, knees with inner thighs. To outsiders it looked brutal. To the participants, however, it wasn't brutal enough.

The rules were simple: don't get the naughty bits. Well, at least not on purpose anyway. Currently, Brienne, or rather her hands, were tangled up in Tormund's cloak. She was trying to throw him over her hip and predictably he resisted. She had him twisted across her body but his weight shifted back and towards the ground. Brienne had lost momentum and she knew it. She changed tactics. She had just enough room to maneuver her her elbows up or down. She chose up and jammed it right into Tormund's jaw. His head snapped back a little and he grunted in pain.

"Damn it woman! I think I lost a tooth!" Brienne could see a little blood seeping out of his mouth. She saw Tormund wiggle the tooth. "Nope, just a false alarm." he stated and they went back to it.

An hour later Tormund disarmed (finally!) Brienne and he was declared (ok, so he declared himself) the victor. He would have jogged a victory lap around the courtyard had his sides - and pretty much everything else - not hurt so damned much. Not to mention the fact Brienne would have actually killed him made him rethink it.

He moved to stand in front of her. He looked her up and down like he had so many times before. When they sparred, however, the look was different, more intense. He could see she understood what happened to them during. He wasn't thinking of the physical but the chemical. That's one thing he loved about her…she got that aggression and sex were so intricately linked. For him, and for her as well, the more he fought the hornier he became. He glanced at her once more and noticed the change immediately. She looked practically unhinged, lurking there behind the cool exterior she always presented to the outside world.

He grabbed her arm. She looked at him then. "We need to go. Now." His voice was low, his gaze intense.

She nodded. He let go of her arm and she followed him to their room. Once he opened the door he heard the clang of her sword as she placed it on the wall by the door. He then felt her hand grab the back of his head and push him towards the wall. His face met warm stone and she put a little more pressure, just enough to keep his head firmly in place but not enough to actually hurt. He would have actually prefer the later if he was being totally honest with himself. He made the pretense of struggle. She made the pretense of not caring.

"What do you think you're doing Wildling?" She spat, a low breathy tone right against his ear. "Did you think I didn't notice that pathetic excuse for a cock attempting to tent your britches as we fought? I'm surprised you bested me. You can't even control that thing." She reached around with her free hand and squeezed his cock through his pants. He stifled a groan but he couldn't help his eyes going to the back of his head.

"Last time I knew you liked that thing." He answered. Damn, this was turning him on in ways he didn't know possible. Seriously, where had she been his entire life? He knew, of course and it made his blood rise each and every time he thought about it. Fucking southerners. They didn't deserve a woman like this. She should have been born in the north, she was needed in the north.

She bristled at his tone, taking it as a blatant challenge she needed to quash. "On your knees Wildling. I have other uses for that treacherous mouth of yours." She pulled him a little off the wall, turning him - still by the hair - towards the door and kicked him behind the knees causing him to drop to the ground with a thud.

She released his hair, making sure to get in one sharp tug for good measure, and walked around his body to stand before him. Her eyes were hooded, her skin flushed, her breathing strained and heavy. His eyes went wide. She was getting off on this just as much as he was. He wanted to fall completely to the floor right there and then and thank whatever gods were listening that he even crossed paths with her in the first place.

Brienne tilted her head to the side and considered him. "Take off your jacket and shirt. I don't want to ruin those expensive furs you like to walk around in."

He complied and as he did she started to take off her armor off. Once done he sat back on his haunches and waited for her to finish. He didn't move.

Brienne noticed. "Good. Very good." She finally got all the pieces off when she pulled her breeches down and past her hips. Tormund took note that she wasn't wearing any small clothes. That minx, he thought, she had this planned all along. Brienne pushed her pants past her knees, lifted her feet one by one and finally pulled her pants up and off.

Tormund's mouth went dry as she advanced towards him. Using her hands she pushed his shoulders down and climbed onto his mouth. He wasted no time getting to work. Pulling her outer lips apart his tongue drove up and into her heat. She was so wet. So soft. So damn sexy it hurt. He dared to look up. Brienne's head was back, her left hand was tangled once more in his hair - a bit more gentle this time - and she was cupping her breast, squeezing gently with her other hand, and in sync with every flick of Tormund's tongue.

His hands grabbed her hips to steady her and proceeded to ravish her with his mouth and breath. He sucked, he nipped, he pulled, he pushed into her wit his tongue and fucked her good and proper with something other than his cock. He had mentioned one time that his mouth was good for more than just ripping some northern fucklord's jugular out. At that time she had looked at him with suspicion. Now he was proving it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He could her hear starting to pant which meant she was close. He pressed on. Harder. Faster. Relentless. Brienne rose to her tip toes and now both hands were in his hair. She just rocked back and forth as she rode his mouth. His head was back and his eyes never left her face. She was simply exquisite when she came. He would never, ever get tired of watching her in the throes of passion. His cock threatened to rip his breeches if it didn't get to come out and play soon. After all, why did his tongue get to have all the fun?

Brienne stiffened, her body going rigid as it started to convulse. He could feel her clench around his tongue as he continued to gently flick her insides with it. She moaned through gritted teeth and with one last long shudder finally relaxed. Brienne look down at him. His face was coated with her. She bent down and kissed him. That was the most tender she felt like. Today she just wanted to fuck. The harder the better.

With a sly smile, she turned away from him and crawled onto the bed like a cat. She was on all fours, her ass sticking up in invitation. She turned her head to look at him. Tormund need no other encouragement and he got up and removed his breeches along with his boots.

His cock was finally free but was captured yet again by Tormund's hand. He gave it a few good strokes to help relieve the pressure before getting behind Brienne on the bed and pushing himself into her.

"Gods, Tormund, now's not the time. Fuck me, dammit!" She pushed back into him and he stayed still. She waited. He didn't budge. She slid forward then back again. She repeated this several times, each one faster than the one before until she was slamming her ass back into his hips. This went on for several moments and something within Tormund snapped.

It was his turn now.

He suddenly grabbed her hips and stopped her movements, the abruptness eliciting a shocked cry from his lover. He slid his hands down her her lower back and pushed, making her arch her back a little more. He leaned in,covering her back body with his front. His arms went to either side of her and his hands pressed into the bed. His chin rested on her shoulder and his lips settled against her ear.

"Do you really want me to fuck you my lady?"

She nodded vigorously. He raised himself up a little and proceeded to set up a rhythm that was nothing short of ruthless. He wanted her to feel his cock all the way in the back of her throat. He pushed her down fully onto the bed. He grabbed around her and lifted her hips just a little in order to get a better angle. He pushed her head into the mattress so she could scream and moan as loud as she fucking wanted to and no one would hear her but she could still breathe.

He fucked her hard. His hips made went side to side, dove back into her, came out all the way, and dove back in as hard as he could. His hands went to the small of her back and he used her body to support him as his cock went in and out of her at a merciless pace. He was close. He was almost there and too far away at the same time but he wouldn't let up, he couldn't let up.

If he wanted to describe to a woman how it was like to come when you were a man he would always say climax is like taking a hammer to your skull and beating yourself over and over with it and yet it felt so good your sought it throughout your lifetime.

His hands dropped to the sides of her once again as his cock pulsed inside her body. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe as it was happening. It was like his body could only do one thing at a time and this took precedence over everything else. Once it was over his breath returned in gasps as he tried desperately to fill his lungs with oxygen. He couldn't hold himself up anymore and collapsed to Brienne's side.

She looked over at him and a lazy and sated smile overtook her lips. "That was fun."

Fun? That's all she could come up with? It was fucking awesome that's what it was! He could only nod.

She propped herself on her elbows. He looked up and down her body. When had she lost the shirt? Like it mattered anyway. He became aware she was saying something.

"But next time, I get to win."

He agreed.


End file.
